NEW FIC: I See the Moon, the Moon Sees Me
title I See the Moon, the Moon Sees Me
author patientalien
rated PG-13
summary Anakin changes his behavior in an attempt to be "good". The outcome is not particularly positive.
notes The title and basic plot are shamelessly ripped from an episode of American Dad. Anakin is Roger, natch. Thanks to citizenjess for her suggestions and awesomeness.
It was the third consecutive morning of Obi-Wan having to clean vomit out of his boots and he was getting a little tired of it. "I know we're on leave," he told Anakin that third morning over breakfast - Anakin was almost face-down in his eggs, but Obi-Wan was going to do this anyway because fuck Anakin, seriously. "But I would appreciate it if you would find somewhere besides my shoes to projectile-vomit when you come home."
"Boots're next to the door," Anakin replied. "It's the will of the Force." He sounded entirely unapologetic, which Obi-Wan supposed was nothing new, but it was still frustrating.
"Damn it, Anakin," he said, finally snapping. "I am tired of this behavior. You are an adult with a Padawan of your own now and it's high time you started acting like it!" He rose from the table, several weeks' (and months' and years'...)-worth of frustration boiling up inside of him.
For his part, Anakin merely blinked at him, looking confused. "But Master..."
"No!" Obi-Wan exclaimed. "Don't you 'but Master' me again, Anakin. I am done dealing with your childish behavior! You want to be treated like an adult, you want to become a Jedi Master, you need to start kriffing acting like it!" For all he scolded and reprimanded, this was sharper, somehow, and seemed to cut Anakin to the core if his trembling lower lip was any indication. "I'm going to go visit with Bail for a few days," Obi-Wan announced, deciding he didn't want to deal with the fallout of this. "I expect you to meditate on this. I'm sure you won't, though."
Before Anakin could protest, Obi-Wan took his leave, but not before upending Anakin's plate of eggs onto the floor with the Force. "JUDICIOUS FORCE-USAGE!" Anakin yelled at Obi-Wan's retreating back.
-----
Obi-Wan returned from Alderaan three days later, feeling refreshed and having almost entirely forgotten his blow up at his former apprentice, mostly due to the always-enjoyable "attachments" he partook in with Bail Organa. The first evening he'd been there, Anakin had called four or five times, culminating in a shouting match over the comm about boundaries and former Padawans who really needed to mind their own business. After Anakin whined at him for the tenth time about wanting him to come home, obi-Wan had calmly and purposefully dropped his commlink into his glass of brandy and went about his business.
All of that came rushing back upon entering the apartment, though, where he found not the remnants of a weekend's worth of unsupervised-Anakin, but by sparkling cleanliness and top-notch organization. Everything was put away and polished, the carpets were vacuumed, and a gentle floral scent wafted through the air.
His first thought was that Anakin had died. That fear (or maybe relief?) was waylaid, though, by Anakin hesitantly emerging from his bedroom and inching towards him. "Welcome back, Master," he said contritely, giving him a low, deferential bow.
Obi-Wan raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Thank you?" he said carefully, eyebrow raising even further as Anakin dutifully bereft him of his travel bag and cloak, neatly hanging the latter on the hook by the door with nary a smidgen of inappropriate Force-use.
"I hope you had a good time," Anakin continued pleasantly, opening Obi-Wan's bag and beginning the process of unpacking its contents. Obi-Wan had never seen him do more than upend his own travel bag onto the floor for "sorting out later".
Going into the kitchen for an opportunity to regroup from the altogether unsettling scene in the living room, Obi-Wan called, "Are you feeling all right, Anakin?"
"Of course, Master!" Anakin chirped back. "Never better!"
"High as a kite," Obi-Wan muttered to himself as he prepared a cup of tea. "Kriffing hells."
-----
As it turned out, Anakin had not been high at all that day, unless, Obi-Wan thought ruefully a week later and without any change in Anakin's deferential, obedient, and entirely uncharacteristic behavior, he was simply on an extended bender. It wasn't impossible, but it was hard to deny that he wasn't at least nominally taking advantage of this New And Improved Anakin Skywalker.
"Would you mind shining Master's boots?" he asked one day the following week, waggling his feet in Anakin's direction.
Anakin grinned at him, not the kind of sneaky 'I'm going to do something shitty now' grin he usually had, but a genuine 'I'm glad to help you, my beloved Master' grin. "I'm glad you help you, my beloved Master!" he exclaimed, dropping to his knees and beginning to shine Obi-Wan's boots with the kind of gusto he usually reserved for barely-consented-to blow-jobs.
If Anakin's movements were a little more sluggish than usual, Obi-Wan didn't notice, because his former apprentice then consented to giving him a platonic but extremely enjoyable backrub.
-----
"Master Obi-Wan, I need to talk to you!"
Obi-Wan looked up from his datapad, painstakingly re-organized and updated with all new software by Anakin, to see Ahsoka Tano standing in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest and a 'Can you believe this bullshit?' look on her face. "Yes, Padawan?" he queried, setting the 'pad aside.
Ahsoka let out a puff of air. "I need you to talk to Skyguy," she announced. "He's acting really weird."
Obi-Wan tilted his head. "Oh?" In point of fact, he'd grown rather used to Anakin's new persona, though admittedly sometimes the younger man's dutiful obedience and tendency to follow him around like an eager Nekk puppy became a bit bothersome.
She nodded. "He's trying to actually TEACH me stuff," she complained. "He's always hanging around trying to get me to spar with him or help me with my homework. He says he wants to be a better Master or something, and it's REALLY annoying." Her hands went to her hips. "I've done just fine training myself, and now he's ruining everything!"
"Oh dear," Obi-Wan muttered. He had assumed Anakin's behavioral shift had extended only to their interactions; he hadn't realized Anakin was subjecting his poor long-suffering apprentice to it as well.
"AND!" Ahsoka continued, undaunted, "I think there's just something really wrong with him. I mean, have you SEEN him lately?"
Admittedly, Obi-Wan hadn't. Well, he had, but his time was being taken up by Council meetings and having Anakin make him dinner and do the laundry. "I'm afraid I haven't," he said instead of explaining all of that.
"He's like lost a lot of weight and he's all pale and stuff," Ahsoka informed him, which basically did nothing but confirm Obi-Wan's original suspicion of "extended bender". Still, if Ahsoka was bringing this to his attention, he supposed it warranted an investigation and, if necessary, another kriffing intervention.
"I can tell you're concerned," Obi-Wan said. "Let's go talk to him together." He rose from his chair.
"I think he's in the Archives. He said he had to do some research for our next mission," the girl informed him.
Obi-Wan blinked. This was obviously more serious than anyone could have suspected. "I have a bad feeling about this," he muttered.
-----
Sure enough, they found Anakin in the Archives, bent over one of the terminals along its central room, looking intently at whatever was on the screen. He didn't seem to sense their presence behind him, so Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Ahem."
Anakin coughed into the crook of his flesh arm and turned to them, a smile lighting up his face. Well, normally it would light up his face, but Obi-Wan had to admit Ahsoka had been correct in her assessment of Anakin's physical well-being. He was pale, his normally golden skin nearly a sickly gray, dark bags under his dull, sunken eyes and flesh pulled taut over bones that normally were padded with a healthy layer of muscle. "Master!" Anakin exclaimed, and his voice sounded like he'd spent the day swallowing sandpaper. Not that Anakin realistically would get anywhere near anything with "sand" in the name, of course.
"Wow, you look like shit, Skyguy," Ahsoka announced, having learned the majority of her diplomacy skills from Anakin.
Anakin blinked at them. "I'm sorry," he said. "I haven't been feeling my best lately, but I am endeavoring not to let it affect my ability to perform my duties to their utmost."
Obi-Wan was getting pretty tired of raising his eyebrows over this whole situation. It seemed along with whatever else was going on, Anakin's vocabulary had improved dramatically. "Anakin, let's talk in private," he said, motioning for them convene in one of the Archive's private rooms - not THE private room, of course, that would be inappropriate given the current circumstances - but one of the study rooms set aside for quiet contemplation of the generations of knowledge amassed within the chamber.
"Of course, Master," Anakin said, standing. "My wish is only to serve and please you." And he promptly passed out.
-----
The Healers could find no medical reason for Anakin's condition, though they did rule out Obi-Wan's original theory that this entire episode was drug-induced, mentioning with some concern that it seemed like his very midichlorians were dying.
"I'm so sorry, Master," Anakin croaked from the bed. "I did not wish to cause you any inconvenience." He coughed violently and grew even paler, if such a thing were possible.
Obi-Wan thought back over the past few weeks to try and pinpoint when this all had started, trying to figure out some clue that might help his friend. After a long moment, he said, "Anakin, does this have to do with what I said before I left for Alderaan?"
Anakin gasped for air. "I didn't want you to be mad at me anymore," he admitted. "I thought if I was good, you would keep loving me."
Oh, attachment, the usual suspect. A theory was beginning to form in Obi-Wan's mind. A crazy theory, to be sure, but the only one that made any kind of sense. Not much was known about Anakin's physiology as the Chosen One. His high midichlorian count made him resistant to most illness and he recovered from injuries faster than most, but what if the symbiants in his blood fed on something besides the Light side of the Force?
What if... "I'll be right back," Obi-Wan said quickly, running back to their quarters and returning fifteen minutes later with a bottle of Ithorian Mist. "Here," he said, thrusting the bottle in Anakin's directly.
Anakin blinked at him weakly. "No liquor shall ever touch my lips again," he said, and began to shake.
"Anakin," Obi-Wan prodded, "Don't you think the Council is wrong for not making you a Jedi Master?"
"They will recognize me when I am ready," Anakin countered, curling onto his side and vomiting onto the floor.
Ahsoka seemed to be catching onto Obi-Wan's train of thought. "Master," she said, "Don't you think it's ridiculous how orange I am?"
"You are just as the Force made you, and you are beautiful." Anakin's nose began bleeding. "At least you'll know... in the end... I was good."
"ANAKIN!" Obi-Wan shouted, finally fed up with his former apprentice's complete inability to understand what was happening - though he was much more dutiful now, he was just as dense, it seemed. "Your midichlorians are dying because they do not have any balance within you! You cannot be only Light or only Dark, you must be able to combine those two parts of you in order for them - and you - to survive!"
"Please, Master," Ahsoka pleaded, dropping to her knees and clasping her hands in front of her in supplication. "Say something shitty about someone!"
"But..." Anakin looked conflicted, weakly turning his gaze from Ahsoka to Obi-Wan.
"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, clasping his former apprentice's thin, clammy flesh hand in his own. "I beg you. You were driving everyone crazy, anyway, and I would rather you be alive."
"Just try it, Master," Ahsoka prompted. "Please?"
Anakin cleared his throat and looked at her with barely-focused eyes. "Stop whining, Snips," he said. "You sound like a baby nexu." His eyes opened a little wider. "And you, Master," he continued, his attention now on Obi-Wan, "You couldn't keep up with me even with me like this. I'd still end up carrying you." Some color returned to his cheeks.
"The Council needs to get its collective head out of its collective ass and just make me a Master already!" Anakin continued, sitting up in the bed. "I'm the most powerful Jedi ever, and everyone keeps holding me back!" He Force-crushed a piece of expensive-looking medical equipment and jumped out of the bed, already looking healthier than he had in weeks.
"Your 'saber technique is atrocious," he told Ahsoka. Swinging around to Obi-Wan, he said, "You have gray hair and crow's feet." He grabbed the bottle from Obi-Wan's hand and took a deep swig, making a noise of pleasure. "I'm ten times the Jedi either of you are!"
With that statement, Obi-Wan promptly punched him in the jaw.
Anakin stared at him in disbelief, a hand pressed against his face. "But Master, I thought you said..."
"I want you to be yourself, Anakin," Obi-Wan replied, shaking his now-sore hand, "but that does not mean I do not reserve the right to correct you where I deem necessary."
"BURN!" Ahsoka crowed, and she and Obi-Wan fist-bumped in triumph.
-the end-
author patientalien
rated PG-13
summary Anakin changes his behavior in an attempt to be "good". The outcome is not particularly positive.
notes The title and basic plot are shamelessly ripped from an episode of American Dad. Anakin is Roger, natch. Thanks to citizenjess for her suggestions and awesomeness.
It was the third consecutive morning of Obi-Wan having to clean vomit out of his boots and he was getting a little tired of it. "I know we're on leave," he told Anakin that third morning over breakfast - Anakin was almost face-down in his eggs, but Obi-Wan was going to do this anyway because fuck Anakin, seriously. "But I would appreciate it if you would find somewhere besides my shoes to projectile-vomit when you come home."
"Boots're next to the door," Anakin replied. "It's the will of the Force." He sounded entirely unapologetic, which Obi-Wan supposed was nothing new, but it was still frustrating.
"Damn it, Anakin," he said, finally snapping. "I am tired of this behavior. You are an adult with a Padawan of your own now and it's high time you started acting like it!" He rose from the table, several weeks' (and months' and years'...)-worth of frustration boiling up inside of him.
For his part, Anakin merely blinked at him, looking confused. "But Master..."
"No!" Obi-Wan exclaimed. "Don't you 'but Master' me again, Anakin. I am done dealing with your childish behavior! You want to be treated like an adult, you want to become a Jedi Master, you need to start kriffing acting like it!" For all he scolded and reprimanded, this was sharper, somehow, and seemed to cut Anakin to the core if his trembling lower lip was any indication. "I'm going to go visit with Bail for a few days," Obi-Wan announced, deciding he didn't want to deal with the fallout of this. "I expect you to meditate on this. I'm sure you won't, though."
Before Anakin could protest, Obi-Wan took his leave, but not before upending Anakin's plate of eggs onto the floor with the Force. "JUDICIOUS FORCE-USAGE!" Anakin yelled at Obi-Wan's retreating back.
-----
Obi-Wan returned from Alderaan three days later, feeling refreshed and having almost entirely forgotten his blow up at his former apprentice, mostly due to the always-enjoyable "attachments" he partook in with Bail Organa. The first evening he'd been there, Anakin had called four or five times, culminating in a shouting match over the comm about boundaries and former Padawans who really needed to mind their own business. After Anakin whined at him for the tenth time about wanting him to come home, obi-Wan had calmly and purposefully dropped his commlink into his glass of brandy and went about his business.
All of that came rushing back upon entering the apartment, though, where he found not the remnants of a weekend's worth of unsupervised-Anakin, but by sparkling cleanliness and top-notch organization. Everything was put away and polished, the carpets were vacuumed, and a gentle floral scent wafted through the air.
His first thought was that Anakin had died. That fear (or maybe relief?) was waylaid, though, by Anakin hesitantly emerging from his bedroom and inching towards him. "Welcome back, Master," he said contritely, giving him a low, deferential bow.
Obi-Wan raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Thank you?" he said carefully, eyebrow raising even further as Anakin dutifully bereft him of his travel bag and cloak, neatly hanging the latter on the hook by the door with nary a smidgen of inappropriate Force-use.
"I hope you had a good time," Anakin continued pleasantly, opening Obi-Wan's bag and beginning the process of unpacking its contents. Obi-Wan had never seen him do more than upend his own travel bag onto the floor for "sorting out later".
Going into the kitchen for an opportunity to regroup from the altogether unsettling scene in the living room, Obi-Wan called, "Are you feeling all right, Anakin?"
"Of course, Master!" Anakin chirped back. "Never better!"
"High as a kite," Obi-Wan muttered to himself as he prepared a cup of tea. "Kriffing hells."
-----
As it turned out, Anakin had not been high at all that day, unless, Obi-Wan thought ruefully a week later and without any change in Anakin's deferential, obedient, and entirely uncharacteristic behavior, he was simply on an extended bender. It wasn't impossible, but it was hard to deny that he wasn't at least nominally taking advantage of this New And Improved Anakin Skywalker.
"Would you mind shining Master's boots?" he asked one day the following week, waggling his feet in Anakin's direction.
Anakin grinned at him, not the kind of sneaky 'I'm going to do something shitty now' grin he usually had, but a genuine 'I'm glad to help you, my beloved Master' grin. "I'm glad you help you, my beloved Master!" he exclaimed, dropping to his knees and beginning to shine Obi-Wan's boots with the kind of gusto he usually reserved for barely-consented-to blow-jobs.
If Anakin's movements were a little more sluggish than usual, Obi-Wan didn't notice, because his former apprentice then consented to giving him a platonic but extremely enjoyable backrub.
-----
"Master Obi-Wan, I need to talk to you!"
Obi-Wan looked up from his datapad, painstakingly re-organized and updated with all new software by Anakin, to see Ahsoka Tano standing in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest and a 'Can you believe this bullshit?' look on her face. "Yes, Padawan?" he queried, setting the 'pad aside.
Ahsoka let out a puff of air. "I need you to talk to Skyguy," she announced. "He's acting really weird."
Obi-Wan tilted his head. "Oh?" In point of fact, he'd grown rather used to Anakin's new persona, though admittedly sometimes the younger man's dutiful obedience and tendency to follow him around like an eager Nekk puppy became a bit bothersome.
She nodded. "He's trying to actually TEACH me stuff," she complained. "He's always hanging around trying to get me to spar with him or help me with my homework. He says he wants to be a better Master or something, and it's REALLY annoying." Her hands went to her hips. "I've done just fine training myself, and now he's ruining everything!"
"Oh dear," Obi-Wan muttered. He had assumed Anakin's behavioral shift had extended only to their interactions; he hadn't realized Anakin was subjecting his poor long-suffering apprentice to it as well.
"AND!" Ahsoka continued, undaunted, "I think there's just something really wrong with him. I mean, have you SEEN him lately?"
Admittedly, Obi-Wan hadn't. Well, he had, but his time was being taken up by Council meetings and having Anakin make him dinner and do the laundry. "I'm afraid I haven't," he said instead of explaining all of that.
"He's like lost a lot of weight and he's all pale and stuff," Ahsoka informed him, which basically did nothing but confirm Obi-Wan's original suspicion of "extended bender". Still, if Ahsoka was bringing this to his attention, he supposed it warranted an investigation and, if necessary, another kriffing intervention.
"I can tell you're concerned," Obi-Wan said. "Let's go talk to him together." He rose from his chair.
"I think he's in the Archives. He said he had to do some research for our next mission," the girl informed him.
Obi-Wan blinked. This was obviously more serious than anyone could have suspected. "I have a bad feeling about this," he muttered.
-----
Sure enough, they found Anakin in the Archives, bent over one of the terminals along its central room, looking intently at whatever was on the screen. He didn't seem to sense their presence behind him, so Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Ahem."
Anakin coughed into the crook of his flesh arm and turned to them, a smile lighting up his face. Well, normally it would light up his face, but Obi-Wan had to admit Ahsoka had been correct in her assessment of Anakin's physical well-being. He was pale, his normally golden skin nearly a sickly gray, dark bags under his dull, sunken eyes and flesh pulled taut over bones that normally were padded with a healthy layer of muscle. "Master!" Anakin exclaimed, and his voice sounded like he'd spent the day swallowing sandpaper. Not that Anakin realistically would get anywhere near anything with "sand" in the name, of course.
"Wow, you look like shit, Skyguy," Ahsoka announced, having learned the majority of her diplomacy skills from Anakin.
Anakin blinked at them. "I'm sorry," he said. "I haven't been feeling my best lately, but I am endeavoring not to let it affect my ability to perform my duties to their utmost."
Obi-Wan was getting pretty tired of raising his eyebrows over this whole situation. It seemed along with whatever else was going on, Anakin's vocabulary had improved dramatically. "Anakin, let's talk in private," he said, motioning for them convene in one of the Archive's private rooms - not THE private room, of course, that would be inappropriate given the current circumstances - but one of the study rooms set aside for quiet contemplation of the generations of knowledge amassed within the chamber.
"Of course, Master," Anakin said, standing. "My wish is only to serve and please you." And he promptly passed out.
-----
The Healers could find no medical reason for Anakin's condition, though they did rule out Obi-Wan's original theory that this entire episode was drug-induced, mentioning with some concern that it seemed like his very midichlorians were dying.
"I'm so sorry, Master," Anakin croaked from the bed. "I did not wish to cause you any inconvenience." He coughed violently and grew even paler, if such a thing were possible.
Obi-Wan thought back over the past few weeks to try and pinpoint when this all had started, trying to figure out some clue that might help his friend. After a long moment, he said, "Anakin, does this have to do with what I said before I left for Alderaan?"
Anakin gasped for air. "I didn't want you to be mad at me anymore," he admitted. "I thought if I was good, you would keep loving me."
Oh, attachment, the usual suspect. A theory was beginning to form in Obi-Wan's mind. A crazy theory, to be sure, but the only one that made any kind of sense. Not much was known about Anakin's physiology as the Chosen One. His high midichlorian count made him resistant to most illness and he recovered from injuries faster than most, but what if the symbiants in his blood fed on something besides the Light side of the Force?
What if... "I'll be right back," Obi-Wan said quickly, running back to their quarters and returning fifteen minutes later with a bottle of Ithorian Mist. "Here," he said, thrusting the bottle in Anakin's directly.
Anakin blinked at him weakly. "No liquor shall ever touch my lips again," he said, and began to shake.
"Anakin," Obi-Wan prodded, "Don't you think the Council is wrong for not making you a Jedi Master?"
"They will recognize me when I am ready," Anakin countered, curling onto his side and vomiting onto the floor.
Ahsoka seemed to be catching onto Obi-Wan's train of thought. "Master," she said, "Don't you think it's ridiculous how orange I am?"
"You are just as the Force made you, and you are beautiful." Anakin's nose began bleeding. "At least you'll know... in the end... I was good."
"ANAKIN!" Obi-Wan shouted, finally fed up with his former apprentice's complete inability to understand what was happening - though he was much more dutiful now, he was just as dense, it seemed. "Your midichlorians are dying because they do not have any balance within you! You cannot be only Light or only Dark, you must be able to combine those two parts of you in order for them - and you - to survive!"
"Please, Master," Ahsoka pleaded, dropping to her knees and clasping her hands in front of her in supplication. "Say something shitty about someone!"
"But..." Anakin looked conflicted, weakly turning his gaze from Ahsoka to Obi-Wan.
"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, clasping his former apprentice's thin, clammy flesh hand in his own. "I beg you. You were driving everyone crazy, anyway, and I would rather you be alive."
"Just try it, Master," Ahsoka prompted. "Please?"
Anakin cleared his throat and looked at her with barely-focused eyes. "Stop whining, Snips," he said. "You sound like a baby nexu." His eyes opened a little wider. "And you, Master," he continued, his attention now on Obi-Wan, "You couldn't keep up with me even with me like this. I'd still end up carrying you." Some color returned to his cheeks.
"The Council needs to get its collective head out of its collective ass and just make me a Master already!" Anakin continued, sitting up in the bed. "I'm the most powerful Jedi ever, and everyone keeps holding me back!" He Force-crushed a piece of expensive-looking medical equipment and jumped out of the bed, already looking healthier than he had in weeks.
"Your 'saber technique is atrocious," he told Ahsoka. Swinging around to Obi-Wan, he said, "You have gray hair and crow's feet." He grabbed the bottle from Obi-Wan's hand and took a deep swig, making a noise of pleasure. "I'm ten times the Jedi either of you are!"
With that statement, Obi-Wan promptly punched him in the jaw.
Anakin stared at him in disbelief, a hand pressed against his face. "But Master, I thought you said..."
"I want you to be yourself, Anakin," Obi-Wan replied, shaking his now-sore hand, "but that does not mean I do not reserve the right to correct you where I deem necessary."
"BURN!" Ahsoka crowed, and she and Obi-Wan fist-bumped in triumph.
-the end-